CHRISTMAS PAST...

 

On the tenth day of the first month the people went up from the Jordan and camped at Gilgal on the eastern border of Jericho.  And Joshua set up at Gilgal the twelve stones they had taken out of the Jordan.  He said to the Israelites, “In the future when your descendants ask their parents, ‘What do these stones mean?’ tell them, ‘Israel crossed the Jordan on dry ground.’ For the Lord your God dried up the Jordan before you until you had crossed over. The Lord your God did to the Jordan what he had done to the Red Sea when he dried it up before us until we had crossed over.  He did this so that all the peoples of the earth might know that the hand of the Lord is powerful and so that you might always fear the Lord your God.” (Joshua 4:19-24)

I could not wait to dig into the treasure Mom and given me; a small box of precious old Christmas decorations. With a gentle hand I adorned my own tree with these treasures and placed each one in a prominent spot wondering all the while what part in my history it secretly held. Curious, I called Mom and asked her. And I was right – there is quite a story…

I clearly remember our move from LaJunta, Colorado to Dugway Proving Grounds, Utah even though I was only five years old at the time. We were in our old blue boat of a car and pulling a U-Haul trailer. On the long drive to Dugway we planned to stop at Grandma and PopPops’ house for the night. We were on the highway between Rawlins and Bairoil and the wind was blowing as it only can in Wyoming. I recall the dark of night and the violent movement of the car and then the crash. We all got out of the car unharmed – the U-Haul, on the other hand, was on its side hanging over a large deep ditch. It was a miracle that the hitch broke the way it did otherwise, car and trailer would have gone over the edge. I remember seeing a stream of car headlights for as far as I could see on both sides of the highway…people had stopped to offer their help. My sister, brother and I were loaded up into a friend’s car and safely taken to Grandma’s house. The next morning I got up and ran to the back door and looked out – there it was, our blue family car just fine and the U-Haul – back up on its wheels but instead of a rounded top it was triangular.

Mom told me when we arrived at Dugway and they started to unload the trailer her biggest fear was looking into her box of Christmas ornaments and seeing them all destroyed…not a one was even chipped!  And, now, all these decades later I am privileged to have some of these ornaments to adorn my tree!

 My great-grandmother would decorate her tree with an array of little reindeer. When very little, my mom and her younger sister would turn out all the lights and sit by their tree under the glow of the little blue stars, snowflakes and icicles (that sadly no longer glow in the dark). I clearly remember the little elves on Grandma and PopPop’s tree all the Christmas’ we spent in their little oil-camp house in Bairoil, Wyoming. One of my favorites that I would get to place on our tree while growing up was the glittery three-tier ornaments – which Mom and Daddy bought for their first Christmas tree.

 

 

I’m so thankful that, for each year that the Lord should tarry in His return, I can open up my treasure box and remember how the Lord not only protected Mom’s box of dear Christmas ornaments on that scary night, but He also had His protective hand over each one of us and brought our family safely to our new home. You see, it was at Dugway where my mom came to know the Lord as her Savior. It was at Dugway where she and our chaplain’s wife would close the curtains, get down on their knees in that little cinder-block house and pray for the salvation of Daddy. It was at  Dugway where my brother, sisters and I would atttend Sunday School, Vacation Bible School, and Sunbeams and learn of the love of Jesus. It was at Dugway where I was asked as a little girl to memorize the Christmas story from Luke chapter 2; I stood in front of the entire congregation and recited it from the King James Version word for word.

So, as the Israelites would use the 12 stones as a remembrance to future generations of God’s great works and salvation – I, too, will see my little box of Christmas ornaments and remember how God kept us from harm and led our family to salvation through His Son, Jesus Christ.

I encourage you all to remember this Christmas the reason for the season. And if you haven’t received the free gift of salvation from God – that you will do so...and see your Christmas in a new and wonderful way that you can share with the generations to come.

Sweet Reminders from My Simple, Fancy Hat

 

The fear of the Lord is the beginning of knowledge,
but fools despise wisdom and instruction.

Listen, my son, to your father’s instruction
and do not forsake your mother’s teaching.
They are a garland to grace your head
and a chain to adorn your neck. (Proverbs 1:7-9 NIV)

 

I was cordially invited to attend a "High Tea" on Saturday, October 13, 2012 to be held in our sweet Southern Baptist church here in simple and rural Riverton, Wyoming. The only request was that each lady wear a "fancy hat."  I had no idea what I would do for a hat...but I knew exactly what dress I would wear; my pretty pink dress that I've only worn two or three times (hoping it would still fit!)

As a "fancy hat" all I could envision was a big brightly colored floppy hat donned with even brighter flowers and frilly flowing ribbons. I've never been to Kentucky during derby time - but in my mind the Kentucky Derby is the epitome of fancy hats. Where on earth would I find such a hat...in autumn...in Riverton, Wyoming? So, I gave great thought to my fancy hat.

Remembering an old, very old sun faded straw hat, I went to the rarely opened closet to see if it was still where I thought I'd seen it when looking for almost anything else. Sure enough, when I rolled open the door, there it was sitting on the top of a pile of old VHS tapes and even older high school yearbooks. I reached up, grabbed hold of the rim and pulled it down...surely, I can do something with this!  So, I gave even more thought to my fancy hat.

We have a Wal-Mart...they sell silk flowers and frilly ribbon! So off to Wal-Mart! I was able to find the perfect shades of pink ribbon for my hat...but flowers, not so much. The craft aisle was filled with brightly colored autumn flowers - not quite what I had seen in my mind for my pretty pink dress. I purchased my ribbon drove home and pondered over my fancy hat.

Then it hit me, I had it all the time...even older than the straw hat were perfect silk pink rosebuds and sweet white baby's breath! I opened my hutch door and gently pulled out the 53+ year old vase blooming on the inside and outside with pink. This vase was given from my grandmother to her daughter when she had her first baby girl...me! Originally it was filled with cut pink rosebuds and white baby's breath which was later replace with silk to treasure. I have all I need for my fancy hat!

As I sat at my dining table pleating, fitting and gluing pink ribbon to the rim of the hat; I pulled the silk flowers from their beautiful vase and thought only of my mom as I tacked on each one. What a wonderful lady she is and of all the ways she taught me to be like a lady...

She taught me to sit like a lady, walk like a lady, speak like a lady, laugh like a lady, smell like a lady, eat like a lady, look like a lady, expect nothing less than to be treated like a lady, and above all, marry a man who will always, always treat me like a lady.

There have been times - many times - I have failed in being lady-like in every area...except one. I married a man thirty-five years ago that has never failed to treat me like a lady.

I offer my thanks to my mom for the godly example she set before me and all she has taught me; and my deepest gratitude out to my godly father-in-law, who led by example teaching my sweet husband to treat his wife as nothing short of a lady.

I encourage you to raise your daughters to be godly ladies and your sons to be godly gentlemen.

The Little Things in Life

Did you know that God wants to take care of even the little things?

“And why take ye thought for raiment? Consider the lilies of the fi eld, how they grow; they toil not, neither do they spin: and yet I say unto you, That even Solomon in all his glory was not arrayed like one of these” (Matthew 6:28-29).

When I was a little girl I was a member of the Brownies and Girls Scouts. Every meeting-day morning I would find the necktie to my uniform—tied to perfection by Daddy the night before—draped across the back of a dining chair.

In high school I was a proud member of our school’s drill/dance team. The Dugway "D-Ettes" were well known around the region for their award-winning head-high kicks and rhythmic jump-splits. We would perform during half-time during the football and basketball seasons.

Our school colors were maroon and white. My D-Ette uniform consisted of an extremely mini dress with long full sleeves, a pair of gloves that were to be kept beyond white, white knee-high boots and "maroonies" (what we called our bloomers) to be worn under my dress.

One Friday morning Mom had to drive to Tooele (approximately 45 miles from Dugway—over Johnson’s Pass) to do laundry at a Laundromat. I came home from school excited about that night’s basketball game. While gathering my uniform together I could feel the panic grow when I couldn’t find my maroonies.

I ran to Mom, “Where are my maroonies?”

It didn't take long for it to dawn on her that she must have left them in a dryer at the Laundromat. She immediately called, and sure enough someone had turned them in to the lost and found.

Daddy’s regimented nightly routine of eating dinner promptly at 5:00, watching the evening news with Walter Cronkite and reading the daily newspaper came to an early and screeching halt. Before his first taste of dinner, he darted out the front door. Our little Vega must have sprouted wings that evening! He retrieved my maroonies and had them to me just minutes before the game. I’ll never forget my daddy’s selfless act.

Isn’t it wonderful to know that our heavenly Father takes care of even the little things in life? He takes great care to provide for his nature. How much more will he care for his child! God’s child can cling to the promise of divine providence regarding all earthly needs.

I encourage you to count your blessings—even the seemingly little ones!

Barbara’s Unbridled Battle for Beets

“Do nothing out of selfish ambition or vain conceit. Rather, in humility value others above yourselves,” (Philippians 2:3 NIV)

The battle over the ownership of a pig was instrumental in the infamous feud between the Hatfield’s and McCoy’s.

It had been since June 2005—eight years—since the last time our family, as a whole, was able to gather together. During that eight year time-span our family had gone through good times and bad…triumphs and tragedies. We had experienced divorce and marriage, military deployment to a war zone and families relocated to new states, with great excitement and anticipation precious life entered this world and with heart-wrenching sorrow life left.

Finishing up lunch, Mom and I were sitting at her familiar forty-five year old dining-room table chatting about the next day’s family gathering to celebrate my parent’s golden anniversary. My daughter, Amber springs into the room grinning from ear to ear cradling three pint-size jars in her arms. Finding the only empty spot on the table she proudly set the three jars down in front of Mom. They were filled to their tops with homegrown homemade pickled beets; glistening like jewels the deep red of garnet. Beaming at me she says, “Here are some of our beets.”

I immediately remembered a facebook conversation I had with Amber several weeks earlier. We “chatted” back and forth about our common taste for pickled beets after she had posted that they had just put up twenty-some jars. Mom and I both looked up at her, practically salivating, and said, “Oh! How wonderful!” My eyes briefly met my mother’s in an uneasy silence.

Later, we began to clear off the table and I was quick to notice Mom as she headed toward her kitchen pantry with all three jars in tow. “Um, Mom? I think those were meant for me, but I will gladly share a jar with you.”

Without a hint of joviality, “Amber set them in front of me,” was Mom’s only reply as she quickly and quietly turned to place them on the shelf and tightly close the door.

Note to self: do not leave without my beets!

The long-awaited party, at the festively decorated home of my sister and brother-in-law, was over all too quickly—an exclusive time of celebration and fellowship with one another. We shared delicious food and fun stories; recalled precious old memories all the while making new ones.

The following morning we were back at Mom’s house and readied ourselves to go in our separate directions. My grandson asked me to fix him a bowl of cereal; I opened the pantry  door and there they were brazenly in plain view...my pickled beets. Mom and I stood in the confines of her kitchen and she called Amber into the room, “We are going to get this beet situation settled,” she said to me, a low tone in her voice.

Amber, wondering why her grandmother was using her “mom” voice joined us in the small one-butt kitchen.  Both Mom and I looked Amber squarely in the eyes as Mom inquired, “Now, Amber, I want you to be completely honest. Who did you mean to give the beets to?”  

Amber sweetly replied, “They were meant to be served with lunch.”  Aghast, Mom and I looked at each other with an almost guilty look of surprise in our eyes. We didn’t want to share the three jars with each other let alone a group of ten. “Oh dear!” I said. I flashed back to those beautiful jars as they sat unsealed and surrounded by lunch foods on the table just a matter of hours earlier—almost felt sorry for the small group who missed out—thought to myself how very sweet.

My other daughter, Meghan, Amber’s twin,  heard the conversation, stepped into the kitchen, boldly chimed in and stated that one of the three jars should go home with her!

Mom and or I are now down to only one jar.

Then, the bombshell. Amber, demurely, let us know she wasn’t talking about the small lunch of ten at Mom’s table she had meant for the beets to be offered to all thirty-four family members at the grand celebration gathering! Mortified, a fleeting notion went through my mind of her thoughtful generosity then Mom blurted out what we were both really thinking, “Are you nuts!”

A humbling and deafening silence…

In an instant Mom’s house was filled with hysterical laughter as the four of us stood in the small kitchen completely amused at ourselves.

In an instant we recognized shameful greed and sincere generosity.

Since it was too late for the party the three jars were happily and gratefully shared among Mom, Meghan and me. (By the way Meghan, you left your jar in the truck…it’s safely sitting here on my kitchen counter!)

Just think of the disgraceful feuds, life-long grudges…even bloodshed, which could have been avoided down through history if they just had the ability to laugh at one’s self and apply what should have been learned as a child…to put others first…and share!

I encourage you to generously share your crop of blessings…even if they are simple pints of pickled beets or pork chops and bacon…with others.

One of the Least of These

One of the Least of These

“And
the King shall answer and say unto them, Verily I say unto you, Inasmuch as ye
have done it unto one of the least of these my brethren, ye have done it unto
me.” Matthew 25:40

Mom, as she has grown older…wiser…and continues to live in the extreme heat of the desert southwest summers, has learned to dress and keep herself very comfortable and simple. Her normal attire for her weekly shopping trip to Wal-Mart includes a big floppy hat to hold down her “God’s will” hair, dark sunglasses that nearly conceal her entire face, no make-up, a way over sized pastel t-shirt, her favorite white baggy “comfy-waist” pants and an old pair of stretched-out tennis shoes. The only bit of jewelry she wears, lovely only to
her, adorns her wrist; her beloved dad’s old, hideously big watch that she was wearing the night he was called home to glory.

One hot summer Sunday morning Mom’s pastor issued a challenge from the pulpit to the congregation. He asked that each one step out of their “comfort zone” during the week and reach out to “one of these."

With a prayerful spirit and a willing heart Mom watched and waited on the Lord to lead her to such an opportunity; and He was faithful to do just that while on one of her visits to Wal-Mart!
As she walked into the store she noticed a man who was sitting just inside the door…out of the blazing sun’s heat…but also out of the way of the hundreds of customers that came through the big automatic doors into the cool air-conditioning to do their shopping. It was quite obvious that this man could be numbered among the “one of these”—unknown, unseen, poor, despised and afflicted.

Mom recognized this man as her opportunity to share and offer kindness. As she approached him timidity overcame her. She thought to herself, "If he's still here when I walk out of the store I will offer him some money for lunch." Sure enough, after she had crossed every line off of her list, checked out and began to walk out the door there he was, in the exact same spot. "Maybe, it would be easier if I take my groceries and purse out to the truck first. I will return the cart, if he's still here, I will then offer him a little money for lunch." She pushed her cart of groceries across the blistering pavement, removed a crinkled five dollar bill from her wallet, tossed her purse into the sweltering cab, unloaded the cart and rolled it back up to the store…and there he was. Again, feeling a little apprehensive she decided, "I will go back to the truck and if he's still here when I drive by and there is a parking spot up close to the front door, I will stop and offer him this five dollar bill to buy some lunch." God, still faithful and ever-patient in giving Mom her desired chance, provided an open parking space right in the very front. Mom peered into the glass enclosure and yes, the man was still there. She pulled into the narrow space and parked; she stepped out of her truck and out of her comfort zone. Cautiously, she approached the man and demurely asked of him, “Sir, do you have any money for lunch?” The sweet elderly man slowly stood to his feet, pulled the insides out of each of his front pockets and said, “No ma’am. I’m sorry; I don’t have any money to give to you.”

Taken aback for just a moment, Mom quickly made her intentions clear and he gratefully accepted her small gift. Mom drove off shouting loudly to herself and to the Lord, “Thank you Jesus, for letting me have such fun!”

Knowing that the obviously penniless man would have given her his last dime, if he had one, left Mom feeling as if she had received the greater blessing by far that day.

I encourage you to step out of your comfort zone to "one of the least of these." You will not only be a blessing you will receive a blessing!